Open the Window and Stand in the Sunshine
by Solayoh
Summary: A short series of 500 words drabbles portraying the different facets of a (possible) romantic relationship between an average, hopeful guy and a shy computer programmer through different songs. Rated T for mentions of sex and violence.
1. Angels of Porn

The first thing he noticed when he woke up, besides the warm, bright rays of the sun entering the room through the opened window, was the strange smell of rotten food, a bizarre, odd combination of yesterday's noodles leftovers and melting vanilla ice cream. A faint, more subtle fragrance of blueberry perfume was also detectable, as well as another, unknown one.

Poking his head up, Makoto frowned slightly, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light, before grabbing his alarm clock… Which turned out to be the rest of yesterday's meal: plain noodles, with chicken stock to compliment the dish. Cringing at the sensation of the now gluey mixture in his hand, a grimacing expression replacing his tired one, he quickly tried to grab his alarm clock, his hand finally finding the device… Only to discover it was eleven in the morning. The date also indicated today was a Monday, and if it wasn't for the fact they were currently out of school for Golden Week, he might have freaked out.

Now that the boy thought about it, why was his room so messy? Not only was there a bowl of noodles on his bedhead, an empty bowl filled with some white, creamy mixture ("Ice cream probably") was resting next to his computer's keyboard… Said computed also was covered with his hoodie, while his vest was hanging on his chair and, _oh God, were those his pants and underwears by the cushions?_

Trying to get up to look closely to the mess, he was taken by surprise when he realized something heavy was resting on his chest. It is only then that the memories of last night finally flowed back into his mind, making him blush like a firetruck before, slowly, turning his head on the left, taken aback by the vision that was offered to him.

His poster of Sayaka Maizono and her fellow idols was still above his head, throning on the wall as usual, but what was more unusual was the small, petite silhouette of Chihiro Fujisaki sleeping soundlessly next to him, one knuckle holding tightly the bedspread while the other was resting next to their head, which was resting again Makoto's chest.

It also didn't take long for him to notice the lack of clothes on Chihiro's body, and even less long for him to realize that he was just as equally naked as his companion. Then again, that did explain the skirt and panties near his bottom garments, as well as the programmer's blouse and vest on the floor near his desk.

In the spasm of a few seconds, he quickly looked under the sheets, searching for some sort of confirmation before looking at the ceiling, a faint grin spreading across his face before he gently, in a careful manner, slid his fingers through the other's hair, taking in the sweet aroma of blueberry perfume before kissing them on the top of their head, bringing them closer to his body.

"Good morning, Chihiro."


	2. Battle Royale

**Notes: **_Trigger warnings this chapter for mentions of violence, a mention of a knife, mentions of death and major character's death._

* * *

Things shouldn't have gone this way. Along the way, something went wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Maybe they shouldn't have rejoiced, in one united cry of joy, when their teacher announced they were all to take part to a school trip outside the city. Maybe if he had known, he would have hold his mother and sister in his arms longer, took one last look at the place he was born in, told everything he had ever wanted to say before stepping into that bus.

After all, somehow, the brilliant 78th class of the most prestigious school in all of the Republic of Greater East Asia ended up switching place with another school, becoming the chosen class for this year's Battle Royale.

Metal collar around his neck, survival pack on his shoulder, as well as the army knife he had given along with the bag, Makoto Naegi, now known among his classmates as Boy #8, was running through a forest, somewhere on the middle of the island. It had been only a day since they had been mysteriously dropped on Okishima (As he had learned previously after spying on Kyoko and Celestia chatting from afar) and yet, their small, fragile class of sixteen students had now dropped to thirteen:

Sayaka died first, followed, surprisingly, by Mukuro and, a few hours ago, by Leon.

However, while he did indeed fear for his life, there was someone the boy worried even more for than himself and the family and friends he might never see again:

Chihiro Fujisaki, now renamed Boy #5 by the administration of the program. The day before they were to be sent to this Hell, he had confessed his love for them, fearing that the other might get close to someone else during this trip. A few seconds after his outburst ("Fujisaki, I think I might be in love with you!"), the other had simply smiled before hugging him, burying their nose into his chest, mumbling about their own feelings for Makoto.

Stuck on an island where his sanity and life were put at stake, his only light at the end of the tunnel was the vision of an alive Chihiro waiting for him near a tree, traits relaxing as they whispered "I waited for you" into his ear.

Stopping on his tracks, his hopes of a happy reunion were immediately turned down by the image that was offered to him:

Chihiro, hanging from a tree, arms suspended and attached to some branches, with their head covered with what seemed to be fresh blood and their eyes closed, unable to contemplate the terrified expression on their boyfriend's face.

"No."

Falling to his knees, hand reaching to touch the corpse exposed to him – as if he was expecting some warmth from it – Makoto's face grew pale, as an almost animalistic, horrified cry escape his lips, unable to cope with the image he was presented. It shouldn't have gone this way, this wasn't true.

A familiar canon sound.

"Chihiro Fujisaki, Boy #5, dead."


	3. 26 Septembre

"Have you ever wanted to do something completely crazy?"

People chatting in harmony on the platform, hugging each other in sign of farewell, and children playing with each other, perfect strangers who decided to use the language of games to communicate with one another, laughing without a care in the world.

Two figures wearing high school uniforms jumping onboard, giving their ticket only to take them back a moment later, smiling before walking towards their assigned seats, sitting down before the youngest of the two – a small, petite student with caramel hair – leaned their head against the other, sighing in relief.

"I can't believe it… We did it, we managed to evade the school!"

Their companion, a slightly taller boy with green eyes (reminiscing of grass after a rainy day) simply nodded, a small, somewhat embarrassed smile appearing on their face.

"Yes, we did. I really can't believe they believed us to be… What's the name of those people already?"

"Megumi Ogata and… Kouki Miyata, I think. I barely looked at the papers: I was too worried someone might be spying on us. I'm just glad we managed to find these and escape from… From you-know-what."

Silence. Both now seemed uncomfortable, as if they had betrayed their friends by running away from Hope's Peak Academy, leaving them to fight the "Parade" orchestrated by the reserve course students alone. Was it a truly good idea to run away? Was it a good idea to leave their friends to fend for themselves while they ran away like cowards?

"Mondo told me yesterday that he would never forgive me if I didn't carry you somewhere safe and away from here…"

Makoto's voice. Chihiro's eyes rising up.

"M-Mondo did?"

"He did. I think, deep down, we all wanted to get out of there."

Another silence. The couple looked down at their ticket, looked upon the destination they were to travel to.

"I've never heard of this town before."

"It's in the south. I think we can assume we'll be safe there…."

A point of anxiety suddenly rose up in Chihiro's stomach, making the now ex-Super High-School Level Programmer to reach for their companion's hand, grasping it hard in order to calm down. Noticing the nervous wreck sitting next to him, the brown-haired boy simply hugged the other, hiding their face into his chest, as if he was trying to protect them.

"We'll be long gone before they know what's going on, don't worry, Chihiro, please."

"I know… I just wished we didn't have to. I-I haven't even called my father to tell him goodbye. A-And you didn't even tell your parents and your sister…"

Tears were now starting to stain his jacket, but he didn't mind. He wanted to cry too, but he did his best to hold them inside: he didn't want to show his classmate how afraid he was, how he regretted leaving everyone behind.

Still, he knew they would understand:

Chihiro was his world now, a world he needed to protect.


	4. Miss World

**Notes:** _Chihiro's gender is briefly used as a plot point here, but it is not specified what they identify as in order not to offend anyone. The main topic here, though, is not gender but acceptance of yourself, not for your body, but for who you are as a person, no matter what._

* * *

Girl eyes. Girl face. Girl legs.

Human personality.

Boy mind.

In their mind, Chihiro Fujisaki found themselves messed up, a poser in a female school uniform, a liar in a skirt, a future Miss World whose body was both an unwanted and wanted shell. A wreck who didn't know what they wanted, a pathetic excuse of a person…

And yet, this was what others had wanted from them, right? They mocked the boy, admired the girl, didn't try to befriend the person, etc. So, after all of this, why was Chihiro now put on a pedestal for everyone to admire, like a pretty pampered doll, and kept away from others when all they wanted was acceptance and trust from others?

Entered Makoto Naegi.

Boy eyes. Boy face. Boy legs.

Human personality.

Human mind and, most important, heart, always ready to lend someone an ear and a smile if needed. Everyone liked the boy, despite his obvious lack of anything special besides, maybe, an optimist attitude that could cheer everyone up, no matter how hard they missed their shot or failed at something.

Chihiro had always found that lack of anything special in the boy special. And when they confessed to the other their secret, as well as their feelings on how they felt about themselves, they managed to find something special and so, so comforting in Makoto's kind words.

That was the first step. The first towards loving themselves. Not to find themselves, but to accept themselves. A step they wanted to take while holding their classmate's hand.

When they tried different sorts of clothes, he was there. Boy, girl, no matter what, the boy always found something nice to say about each set. And he believed every single one of them, no matter if they were wearing pants or skirts at the moment.

With his help, they also tried, every week, to write a small list of three things they liked about themselves. At first, only 'programming abilities' and 'hacking talents' were on the paper, but with Makoto pointing out more and more things, the list grew to include 'eyes', 'personality', 'kindness', 'smile' and even 'who I am'.

Gym class were now their favourite. They could now run as much as they wanted with Makoto, laughing about how slow they were compared to Leon or Sakura and even grow amaze at the small muscles appearing a bit everywhere on their bodies. Each PE class was now like opening a treasure chest, a chest they never knew they wanted to peek inside.

By the time of some months, Chihiro had formed a strong friendship with the luckster. So, when they finally took their chance and kissed him while talking about something trivial, all they did was smile – a smile they would have never showed anyone before – and rejoice as Makoto returned their feelings.

And they finally found what they were.

They were Chihiro.

"My name is Chihiro Fujisaki, and I love myself and the boy who made me love myself."


	5. Body Electric

Makoto. Sweet, humble Makoto who was always content with everything, never asking for anything – and everything at the same time.

It would be a lie to say they met when they were all asked to introduce themselves to each other on the first day. The first time they met each other was in the hallway, on the way to their homeroom when, by pure accident – coincidence – they bumped into each other, Chihiro's nose attacked, and welcoming, the gentle smell of fresh cleaned clothes.

Following that event, nothing changed. They became classmates, talked to each other on some occasions, played and joked around, like everyone else. It wasn't much, but they were happy like this. Or at least, they pretended: the caramel-haired teen couldn't help but sometimes wish, when he turned corners in the halls, that he would bump again in the luckster, only this time, he would notice them.

And then, started the merry-go-round of dating. First candidate: Sayaka Maizono.

Of course, when Makoto announced he was now dating the idol, everyone thought he was joking. A nationwide famous pop star with a boring, ordinary kid? No way.

When they broke up, there was nothing to discuss anymore. Everything had been said or done, and all possible fantasies that came with this relationship evaporated. And they moved on.

If this affair lacked excitement and mysteries, the next one didn't.

Kyoko was, for sure, a bit of a mystery herself, and the rumors of the boy's investigation didn't went through a deaf person's ears. Many things were said about those two, but when the mystery was finally solved, they separated, judging that this was the end of their career as romantic partners.

Mukuro was next. For some reasons, while both of them seemed to get along well (Mukuro actually _smiled_ during those short, happy days), she quickly threw this happiness away, saying "goodbye" a little bit too quickly.

Some of their upperclassmates with viper tongues said it was Junko who ordered her to stop messing around. One thing for sure, no one would know.

After that, they stopped coming. Sure, he would still praise Toko's novels (And receive death threats in return), play poker with Celestia – who wanted nothing more than to test this "luck" of his – and lose to the girl, endure Junko's little insults and talk about the weather with Aoi and Sakura, now dubbed Aoi-and-Sakura as they always were together.

And Chihiro, smiling at him from their seat, still continued to fantasy about that one time, they could touch him, feel him under their fingertips. It was nothing special, nothing frivolous like with the others, but it did feel extraordinary to them.

It was magnetic, electric even. They had fallen somehow for him, and now that he decided to close the door to romance, they had to live with the fact he would never notice them.

Chihiro quietly looked at their sleeve.

It still smelled like him, and the touch still burned a little.

He really was electric.


	6. Amor

Most couples had cute little nicknames to give to each other, special words that were only to be spoken by their other halves. Melodious, rolling of the tongue like a song that was only to be sung to them.

Except for Makoto and Chihiro. Of course, they went from calling each other by their last name to their first, but besides that, they never went beyond that. Both were not poets, and the idea of giving each pet names never crossed their minds.

Or at least, never crossed their minds until one evening. Wanting to meet their son's other half, Makoto's mother asked her son to invite the programmer for dinner. After all, they had heard tons of things about them, some from the press, some from their boy.

And so far, it wasn't bad at all. His father joked to Chihiro that he was a great programmer himself, demonstrating how he could make a file all by himself, while his mother politely asked them some questions about school and their father, only to be met with a blushing face mumbling their answers as they buried their chopstick in their rice bowl.

To Makoto's relief, everything seemed to be going well.

And then, of course – _of course _– Komaru had to ruin things, like a good little sister.

"Hey, Fujisaki, do you call my big brother something gross like 'darling' or 'sweetheart' when nobody's around?"

No sounds echoed around the table for a moment, as both teenagers looked at each other, faces red like the tomatoes in front of them. Choosing to chew on a piece of tomato, the older sibling shook his head.

"They don't. And so do I."

The topic stayed close for a moment, as they carried on with their dinner and evening, the family inviting Chihiro to play a game of Monopoly. Many laughs were heard, but eventually, it was starting to be late and the small, caramel-haired student had to go home. Offering a ride, with his son following, Makoto's father escorted them to their house via their car, both kids sitting on the backseat, whispering to each other.

"What I said earlier didn't bother you, right?" he demanded, as his partner shook their head, looking at their feet while a soft smile illuminated their face.

"No, it didn't."

_But…_

"I do wonder, if you had to give me a nickname, what would it be?"

No words were spoken for a while, until Makoto's lips chose to detach from one another.

"Well, you do remind me of a small bunny so… I dunno, 'bunny'?"

Another moment of silence. And all of a sudden, a small giggle, like a bell, passed Chihiro's mouth, transforming soon into laughter, laughter which his boyfriend soon joined. It wasn't that the nickname sounded ridiculous or anything – no, it was the fact that it sounded so… _Foreign_. Almost as if he wasn't talking about his lover.

In the end, they chose to stick to Makoto and Chihiro.

It sounded a lot better.


	7. So Close

**Notes:** _Trigger warnings for mentions of death and major character's death._

* * *

Death was a universal truth. No matter what humans would do, it would always chase after them, take them by the end at the end of their lifespan and help them carry on to the other side. Some died early, like young children who never got a chance to live their lives at its fullest, some died very old, living a life so long, they were awaiting its arrival and welcoming it like an old friend when it finally came for them.

And some died in tragic circumstances that were never meant to happen.

He felt like he had shaken Death's hand too much ever since they came to this Academy. He probably was doomed the minute he got here, but if you asked him, it was the moment his friends started falling like flies that he felt like he got closer to this obscure side of life.

Maizono, Enoshima, Kuwata… These were deaths he was saddened with, but felt like he could carry on, in their names, for their dreams.

Fujisaki however? Now, it was personal.

It was a simple infatuation he tried to tell himself. Something superficial, like with the idol he had befriended during his first days here. Nothing serious, nothing too deep, just plain, simple feelings.

But when she – he – died, everything changed. It wasn't that small or innocent, it was, to his shock, something deeper, that meant more to him than he could ever know. Could he live without Fujisaki? Absolutely, in fact, it gave his mission of getting out of here even more sense. Did he wanted to?

_Absolutely not._

It had been a difficult trial, one that easily lasted two hours for them to sort out everything. Two hours of playing whodunit, only for it to come to an end when Oowada screwed up and accidentally revealed himself as the killer. One who didn't mean harm to Fujisaki, but still the one who killed the programmer.

He almost broke down when the gang leader started talking about their friend: how full of life the other was, how kind, gentle and determined "he" was and how, even in "his" last moments, innocence could be seen in those beautiful eyes that would, now, never be opened again. But what got to him is when he finally narrated what happened when the… _Weapon_ hit them, the hurt and betrayed expressed through his body language before, finally, they collapsed on the floor, leaving behind all of them. All of them including Naegi.

The execution was quick and terrible, just like the first one. However, unlike Kuwata's, he felt no horror as he watched the other walk – well, drive – to his death unlike Ishimaru, unable to cope with the harsh truth. He simply clung to the wire fence, watching the taller boy get executed for his crime, ignoring everything around him. And it's only when everything was over that he finally turned to the hall monitor, his voice filled with many emotions, mostly pain:

"I loved him too."


	8. Va Va Voom

**Notes:** _B__ased on an AU where Chihiro is an high school senior who also works as a prostitute, while Makoto is a lawyer who used to work along with Chihiro but was fired later._

* * *

Sitting on the bed, eyes eying the teenager standing in front of him, Makoto sighed. Coming back here was a bad idea, he should have asked Chihiro to visit him and not the opposite. He never liked this room: how their skin glistened in the warm, yellow light from the fake, plastic chandelier fixed on the ceiling to name only one thing about it that bothered him. Or the red bedsheets that were tainted with white stains here and there.

But most of all, he hated what he was seeing: the dead leaf echo of the frail, timid child who used to cry on his lap most nights when customers would come and buy their services. Now, as he looked in these hazel eyes, all he could see was devastation and emptiness, as if someone had drained all happiness from them. However, there was another emotion he could see in them, something that terrified him even more:

Hunger.

And somehow, the situation had gotten worse when the prostitute kneeled at his feet, head resting on his lap as their hand traced circles on the material of his pants. Coughing a little in his hand, Makoto started his speech, explaining to them that this was no way to live, no matter what the madam thought of the matter and that they should instead find another, better job somewhere else. He would have continued his verbal crusade, if it wasn't for Chihiro suddenly standing up and throwing themselves on him, calves trapping him on the verge of the bed, with the teenager using their knees to support themselves over him, watching over the lawyer with a curious facial expression, half-curiosity, half-sadness. If he had a poetic bone in his body, he probably would have called it 'dreamy'.

"You don't understand," softly spoke the other through parted lips, moving them closer and closer to the man, gently rubbing against his in a slow, woeful motion. "I like this life. It treats me well, don't you think?"

His first instinct was to push the other away and run away, but sadly, he was trapped. And not only that, the next words had the effect of a cold shower on him.

"I want things too. You especially."

It's only when Chihiro pressed their lips against his that he snapped back to reality. He truly, desperately wanted the other to let him go, as the kiss tasted like acid to him, as if it had burnt his flesh. Yet, why was he now holding Chihiro's back as the other deepened it? Why did he actually brought the other closer? What was wrong with him?

He had no idea how much time passed until, all of a sudden, the door opened and Nagito appeared, saying something before the kid broke the embrace, walking towards the open door as if nothing had happened.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Makoto stood up, ready to leave before facing Nagito, eyes empty like Chihiro's.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry…"


	9. Love In the Morning

Perhaps it was the lack of warmth next to their small body that woke them up, or maybe it was the delicious smell of food cooking far from the room. The piercing rays of sunlight that fell on their face might also be a plausible cause. However, whatever was the reason that brought the programmer to open their eyes and refuse to go back to sleep, they could automatically feel something was a little… Odd.

First of all, the bed was empty. Usually, it would have been covered with computer parts or various series of paper sheets on which seas of codes and instructions have been written on. There was nothing on it today though, only the shape of two, thin limbs under the bedsheets. Second, the window was open, and as far as they were concerned, they never opened it due to the light's reflection on his various computer screens. Thirdly, their house never smelt like food. Sure, they knew how to cook simple, easy to heat meals but such a delicious odor was definitively not something their father would recreate, especially since the man was just as easy on cooking as his child: takeovers were easy, and besides, it only took a minute to clean them off before returning to programming.

Rolling on their stomach, they wondered what was the meaning of this when, all of a sudden, something fell on their head: a hoodie. A hoodie that definitively did not belong to Chihiro. Yet, they had seen it before, and they knew exactly where on top of that: on their boyfriend's body. At least, that explained everything and as they snuggles their way inside the garment, they sighed in delight, burying their head in their pillow before closing their eyes, a faint smile illuminating their traits.

What was supposed to be a nice, long nap was interrupted however, by a familiar pair of green eyes and the world's most beautiful smile holding a breakfast tray. Somehow, it felt too good to be real: a warm, exquisite meal in bed with the person he loved the most, all the while teasing them about how their hoodie fitted them better? A perfect morning was in store for them, they thought as they rejoiced, right when the tray was soon abandoned on the bedside table and small, butterfly kisses were peppered across their cheeks.

Wrapping their arms around his neck, they laughed a little when fifty-two kilograms of sunshine collided next to them, eyeing the caramel-haired teenager with amusement in their eyes and strawberry colored cheeks when they noticed the hoodie. So, Chihiro had been spot-on it seemed: he liked it.

Seperating himself from the smaller of the two, Makoto grabbed the tray once again, this time, putting it down on Chihiro's lap, chuckling a little. He had been up for two hours to prepare all of this, and the other's reaction was worth all those preparations.

"Sunny side up eggs," he said with a wink.

It tasted like sunshine.


	10. Do I Wanna Know?

**Notes:** _Slightly NSFW, albeit not completely._

* * *

Back facing him, head turning around, batting their soot-black eyelashes directly at him from where they were, dancing only for the boy sitting on the bed, their only spectator – and the only one allowed to see this side of them.

Twirl, hand brushing – slowly, _so slowly_ – their own hipbone, accidentally showing a parcel of their skin, the hoodie slowly lifted up above the thigh. High enough for Makoto to gulp, low enough for it to quickly come back down and hide the flesh it never was meant to cover. Now, their hands were back in the game, slowly travelling to their lower body, joining together to form a triangle shape near their stomach before separating and letting their hips steal the show, shifting them while rolling their shoulders. Part of the collar accidentally slid during the motion, offering the (lucky) student a sneak peak of what that green vest always hid underneath.

The music cranked up, their movements taking on a more risqué edge as they approached the luckster, teasing him with an expression he had never seen before on Chihiro's face: an expression that was both innocent and knowing, a lazy, insolent smile completing the portrait.

This is different. And he isn't sure what to think of it. On one hand, he loved it – his cheeks are flushing dangerously red, his breath is hectic and he is pretty sure that the room's temperature increased while he was distracted by his lover. It also probably could explain why his pants suddenly felt too tight and like a nuisance. On the other however, the programmer always seemed so unnerved when they stood a little bit too close to each other, making him back away in order to respect their personal space. They always seemed disconnected when they hugged, leading to him taking the hint and only holding their hand instead, something the caramel-haired teen had told him he felt comfortable with.

Where was that obvious discomfort in this provocative look? Actually, why in the name of Hope's Peak did Chihiro decided to lock the two of them up in their room, unzipping his hoodie before bringing it inside the bathroom, closing the door only to reappear a few minutes later naked, with only the stolen garment to cover their body?

He breathed out, his mind in a slight haze when the other sat on his lap, hands sneaking behind his neck, the same smile as earlier still stuck on their doll-like face.

"Why are you doing this? I thought– (another gulp) I thought you didn't like it when I touched you."

It was as if he had broken a spell, with a confused programmer looking at him as if something was wrong. Bitting their bottom lip, they looked down, the corner of their lips turning up another time, only this time, it was sweet, innocent… And so Chihiro-like.

"I didn't feel ready," they explained on a sheepish tone. "But I am now. Is it… Okay, with you?"

"Y-Yes…"

The hoodie fell.


	11. Top Of The Hill

Days at Hope's Peak Academy were, mostly, courses in the morning, lost hours dedicated to Japanese, Maths, English, Sciences, etc. Following a short lunch hour, where the students were more than happy to eat the delicious food of the cafeteria, the afternoon was designed to be tailored for each student: everyone had different classes, all related to their abilities and helping them grow even better in their discipline. The exception to this rule was, no surprise there, the Super High-School Level Good Luck students, who were given either private lessons in a subject they had studied in the morning or free-time, if nothing was to come up. This system was built in order to make sure no one would miss some work were something to happen.

Lying on the grass near a tree, Makoto Naegi sighed in delight. Finally, some time to relax, alone and in silence, with no one and nothing to interrupt. Don't get him wrong: he liked his classmates and didn't mind the extra work, it's just that this was, for the first time in a long while, one of the few moments he could spend on his own, far from everyone else. Although he did regret Chihiro's presence a little: he knew they were busy with programming courses and everything, but he did want to spend more time with his crush, now officially his sweetheart since May.

Looking up at the sky, he was taken aback when his eyes met a pair of honey-brown ones, jumping a little as a yelp escaped his mouth and a small laugh resonated in the air. Speak of the devil!

Lying on top of him, lips meeting his lips before they chose to rest their head on his chest, the other breathed out in exhaustion, finally glad to have been released of their programming class. "It was getting a little bit too… Boring, if I can say that. It's just that we've been over these codes so many times, I'm tired of practicing them everyday," they explained before groaning slightly, their eyes meeting his. "I'm sorry for complaining… This is so unlike me, but I needed to say it to someone and, well, I trust you so…"

Bringing his hand up to stroke their face, Makoto shook his head. "Don't apologize for that, it's okay to be bored. Besides, you're the greatest programmer I know."

Silence creeped between them as they smiled at one another before lying together in the grass, enjoying the peace and quiet moment they were finally allowed to enjoy together without everyone else showing up.

"This is the best," finally whispered Chihiro before moving his lips closer to his, giving him a short kiss, which made the luckster smile.

"I really am lucky, I suppose-", he replied, before another voice interrupted him.

"Naegi! You're dead, punk!"

Yes, he was lucky to have the programmer by his side. However, dating the cutest and sweetest person had one big, terrible con:

Mondo Oowada, Chihiro's best friend.

…

Worth it.


	12. Ascension & Nature Boy

**Notes:** _Trigger warnings for mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of death and implied major character's death._

* * *

The chase was over: they were lost in the mob, on the verge of all being torn apart from each other. They thought they could be safe if they hid inside the school. Unfortunately, one of them – a traitor – opened the gate and led the way, ultimately making the parade stumble on them, as they were trying to organize themselves in the cafeteria, along with Principal Kirigiri, whose face quickly turned pale as he yelled "Scatter!"

And the hunt started.

One by one, they were captured and then tortured, or caught and killed on the spot. There were no ways to know who had fallen to the hands of despair, and who had survived and were currently keeping a low profile to avoid them.

The last time they had seen each other, Kyoko's father – probably killed the moment they stepped out of the cafeteria – had given his daughter the master key, a key to open and lock all doors in the school, including his own office. However, soon after, the girl went missing, leaving behind her a notebook full of old memories and the key.

A key which Makoto soon took possession of, before he was joined by a pale and scared Chihiro. He had found the programmer hiding somewhere on the third floor, eyes like a deer in the headlight and barely holding to their remaining sanity, the corpses of Mondo and Leon nearby. The room smelled like blood, and the thought of the caramel-hair teen watching their friends die as they covered their mouth, trying their hardest not to let them know he was there made him want to throw up.

For a long, unknown time, they had stayed together, trying to find their classmates only to be met with trembling bodies and remains of kids they used to know. They clinged to each other, and became dependant on each other, to the point that they could only find sleep and a semblant of solace in each other's arms. The attraction, the feelings they had previous to this incident had grown larger than they thought, the two of them united by a bond that went far past the physical, psychological and mental bonds they had formed with others in the past.

Until one day, where the two were caught in the trash room after deciding to return to the cafeteria. It was obvious, this time, that they wouldn't survive, as the despair-induced individuals wanted their heads on spikes.

It was at that moment that he gave the key to Chihiro, and kissed their lips one last time, the crying student shaking their heads and clinging to him as if their life depended on it. Opening the trash door before looking at the programmer, a serious and yet pained expression painted on his face, he finally spoke one last time, as he pushed the programmer inside the trap door.

"The greatest thing I've ever learned was to love until I couldn't anymore. T-Thank you..."

Chihiro fell.

The door opened.


	13. Palo Alto

Life was unfair and their father had been right: love never happens like you think it will or should. Fukawa's novels weren't much of a consolation too, as the breakups in her stories were always described as painful, to the point someone would rather prefer taking a bullet in the head – or heart – rather than carry on with their lives.

Sobbing on their bed, their phone crushed under their chest, Chihiro cried, the tears rolling down and staining their grey bed sheets. For the first in a long, long while, they didn't want to sit down in front of their computer and work on some new program they have been commissioned, they didn't want to go to Mondo and Kiyotaka and ask to train with them. They didn't want to smell the odor of instant noodles and clovers anymore, or wear a hoodie ever again.

"I'm sorry, Fujisaki, but we can't go on like this. Forgive me."

Twelve words, two sentences. That's all it took for their heart to be ripped out of their chest and stepped upon. The moment they stumbled across the last two words, it was like glass broke in their mind, as their entire body shut down. They couldn't move, or think: all they could do was stand there and take it in, accept it.

Makoto, no… Naegi didn't love them anymore. Naegi didn't want to hold their hand and laugh as the two sat in the bleachers, cheering on their friends during PE class. He didn't want to feed them noodles, with Chihiro refusing everytime to take a mouthful since "I really should finish this first!" They would never experience the feeling of what it would be like to dance with someone at prom, or what another naked body pressed to theirs would feel like.

Love was like glass: beautiful, but fragile. And as much as they refused to think about it, that's what their relationship with the boy had been. Beautiful, pure, something innocent and sweet but delicate, so delicate, anything could come inbetween and throw it down, watching the beautiful porcelain of emotions and attachment explode in tiny pieces.

Maybe the other had preferred another one of his friends to them? It was a possibility: there were a lot of beautiful girls ("And handsome guys," they thought a bit bitter) in their class, finding anyone new wouldn't be a problem, especially since everyone liked the luckster a little, even Togami who always acted as if they were nothing to him but insects.

Maybe Togami was right in the end. After all, Chihiro themselves felt like an insect that had been rolled over by a car, something insignificant whose fate was to be brought down by something – someone – much more bigger than them.

Good, now their stomach was filled with something they couldn't identify properly. Disgust? No. Hatred. No, even though they wanted to hate him, but couldn't. Regret? No, there was nothing to regret, right? Pain? Maybe? Deception? Perhaps.

Love? Definitively.

Loss? Absolutely.


	14. Any Other Name

If he could die listening to one sound only, he would choose the weak, high pitched whimpering sound that escaped Chihiro's mouth the moment his lips touched their neck, the programmer's fingers digging themselves in his back as if they were going to drown in their own pleasure and clinging to him was the only thing they could do in order not to let themselves fall prey to this special, cherished sensation.

The idea of meeting in an empty classroom in the evening was something they had discussed a lot recently, a fantasy of theirs they never had the courage to induce themselves in. Yet, it was something they could easily do: the classroom next to theirs was always empty, as the number of classes was inferior to the number of rooms. As far as they knew, its access wasn't prohibited or restricted, but no one went there usually, for the simple and only reason that there was nothing to do or find there. A boring room whose only redeeming feature was its view on the school's garden. The perfect place for two teenagers to sneak in and use as a hiding spot from the rest of the world, its camera having been broken years ago.

The sky was warm outside, with hints of orange and pink painted across it, and the light it projected inside the classroom reminded Makoto of cotton candy. It also reminded him of Chihiro's lips, who happened to be the exact same color as the spun sugar, as well as the faint mark he had left on their collarbone days ago, making sure to leave them only in areas their school shirt could hide. The dust around the room floated around them, surrounding them in a mist that made them look slightly transparent; as if they were two ghosts were kissing and basking in each other's presence.

No sounds were heard, with the exception of Chihiro's moans and Makoto's groans, as well as their respective breath. For a moment, it was as if they were the only people in the entire school to be there, as if their world was only composed of this room and each other. Usually, they knew that the Earth was still spinning as they spent time with each other, with its friendly reminders such as a voice heard in the hallway or someone kicking a football somewhere else. Tiny, joyful moments of life, but they both were quiet kids: in fact, they enjoyed finding solace in a world that didn't stop moving.

They had planned nothing for the evening, except maybe kiss and hold each other until they didn't have the strength to anymore. They had considered the idea of "fooling around", but Chihiro opposed it, too shy to do anything of the sort. They were content with kissing and holding Makoto, and to him, that was good enough. As long as Chihiro was happy and alright, so was he.

Because, in his imagination, this was what Heaven looked like.


	15. Sad Dream

**Notes:** _Trigger warning for mentions of death._

* * *

Another night alone, with only a cup of coffee and a bunch of files to keep him company. Another night of looking through these, searching for a clue – any kind of clue – that could help them restore the world to its original (almost) peaceful state. Another night of solitude reliving his old school days, where the biggest problems in his life were homework and passing P.E class with good grades.

Another day meddling in his dead classmates' lives, searching through the endless notes in an attempt to learn more about them, keep on carrying their memories while preaching to the nation that they were "just like you and me – people who wanted nothing more than a good, happy life."

He had been through most of the files, and now, he was done reading the last few pages of Sayaka's file. After putting it aside with the rest of the files, Makoto's eyes fell on the last folder in the pile, the one he had dreaded to look at the most.

"File #15: FUJISAKI, Chihiro"

Just looking at the hard, black cover was hard for him to stand. It didn't click in his mind: Chihiro was not a black file, with pages of notes detailing a complicated story of bullying and insecurities. Chihiro was a kind person, who dedicated their life to helping everyone around them, someone with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen and someone whose hand felt warm when hold in his. The book waiting for him at the end of his desk was a painful reminder that Chihiro's life had ended in tragic circumstances, and he didn't want to confront it.

Even talking and looking at Alter Ego was somewhat painful. Same voice, same attitude, same habits, different people. Alter Ego was not Chihiro, but the resemblance was so strong, it was almost as if everyone around him had been fooled.

As he struggled to pick up the file, the strangest thing happened: a pale, almost transparent hand gently grabbed his, a hand he had seen so many times in his dreams (and nightmares). Turning around, his heart skipped a beat as a familiar silhouette dressed in green and brown stood next to him, a sad smile on their traits.

"Chihi-"

A finger on his lips, tears forming at the corner of his eyes… And yet, he couldn't feel any kind of pressure on his mouth, nor around his hand. As he realized that, something hot – boiling – fell on his hand, making the boy wince in pain as he quickly looked at his burning flesh.

The cup of coffee had been spilled on his hand, probably in his excitation. Picking the cup up, and grabbing some tissues nearby, he silently cleaned the mess, his eyes looking at the black folder he had not dare to touch.

A tear rolled down his cheek, a tear he didn't have the strength to erase from his face. He had to be strong, yet…

Why wouldn't the pain disappear?


	16. Only Teardrops

**Notes:**This is an indirect sequel to 'Palo Alto', and is dedicated to keys-to-joy-and-me on Tumblr for sending me the sweetest message. This is also somewhat an apology for almost making them cry while reading the drabble based on 'Palo Alto'. Again, sorry! ;;

* * *

"Chihiro! Wait, please!"

What started as a normal, grey school day quickly became a chase between two students of the 78th class, as soft, quiet Chihiro immediately turned back on their steps and ran outside, in the rain, after bumping into their ex-boyfriend, said ex now facing them on a sidewalk in front of the school, rain falling on the two.

"Listen to me, Chihiro—"

"There's **nothing** to talk about! You took what you wanted a-and left me! You **used** me! I gave you my heart and trust, and you send me two sentences to tell me that I was wrong for doing this!"

It was obvious the breakup had deeply affected the smaller of the two, now standing in front of him with tightened fists.

"We're through! There's nothing else to say! You… You really are just a heartbreaker, and Togami was right: y-you are nobody! You're not one of us! You don't belong here!"

It hurt, of course it did, but what hurt the most was seeing someone he had always known to be soft-spoken and gentle be this violent in their choice of words. And as the verbal attack continued, his heart broke more and more.

"I loved you! I gave you everything I could, while you spitted on it, and only broke my heart. And now that you've come and faced me now, how does it feel to know you'll be haunted by memories you can never have back?"

Tears rolled down their cheek, water drops stuck in their hair.

"I loved you… I really loved you. And I believed you loved me too! What has come between us? Where did we go wrong? What was I to you? How many times did I have to fight to make it clear that I loved you more than my heart can take? How many times do I have to lie to everyone and pretend to be someone I am not for you? I loved you. I love you! And yet, you deceived me!"

"Chihiro—"

"I hate what you did to me! I hate myself for being in love you! I hate being in love with you! But most of all, I hate—"

Their phrase was left incomplete as, all of a sudden, their body was pressed against something – someone – and their entire world became brown hair and green doe-like eyes, a soaked brown jacket and full, pink lips pressed against theirs. The tears finally rolled down from their eyes while a truck drove by, drenching both of them thanks to a puddle in its way. Shivering slightly, Naegi broke the kiss, gently picking up Chihiro's knuckles and kissing them.

"I love you. Still does, always will. I didn't… Break up with you because I wanted to… Please, listen to me…"

Both of them sobbed as Naegi carefully explained the situation (Family discord it turned out), eventually leading to a hug.

"I love you. Please, take me back, Chihiro."

A nod.

"Okay. I love you too, Makoto..."


	17. Hardest of Hearts

**Notes:** _Spoilers for Dangan Ronpa/Zero ahead, and trigger warning for mentions of death. Comments are appreciated on other drabbles (This one's not very good)._

* * *

When it was announced to them that there was only an hour left before the doors were sealed, everyone went in different directions, spending their last hour outside doing something they loved or would miss: Leon ran to the baseball field, Aoi and Sakura both went outside to run a few miles, a small group moved to the roof, and so on.

As for the sweethearts of the class, they decided to hide in the garden behind the building, hidden from the world by a sea of trees and holding each other as they listened to the wind blow. Despite being so close physically, both of their minds were worlds away from each other, mourning the world they would have to say farewell to for a little while.

The idea of not being able to go outside was a repulsing one, but if it was the price to keep on living, they were more than ready to agree to spend the rest of their lives inside this golden cage. Besides, most of their houses had been destroyed, and their families' current whereabouts unknown for the most part.

Most of them had no idea why they were still alive. Only a few of them knew, and refused to explain it, in fear their classmates would panic. On the other hand, some had access to privileged information, and chose whether to reveal it or not to the rest of the group. Among those who knew something, there was Chihiro – sweet, innocent Chihiro – who was torn between sharing what they knew with everyone, or keeping it for themselves. A hard decision, especially considering it would enlighten those in the dark, but that would also worry the others more than needed. They could keep it; it wouldn't be the first secret they kept to themselves anyway. But were they ready to let everyone be as miserable as possible?

Ignoring the fingers playing in their hair, the programmer buried their face in the crook of their boyfriend's neck, Chihiro sighed, feeling horrible at the prospect of not speaking to Makoto about how the man who tried to kill him ("And would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for Mukuro," they thought) was now dead, as well as the boy who he tried to return his ElectroID to. The problem was, if they spoke up about it, the ex-luckster would ask how they knew about that, forcing them to reveal their participation in the investigation of the event, and his previous engagement towards the now dead Yuuto Kamishiro.

Knowledge of this could probably make trouble rise within their ranks, especially since Junko (for obvious reasons) refused to hear more about these events. She had lost the person who was the dearest to her besides Mukuro, and they didn't have the heart to reveal what horrible secrets he had found about Yasuke Matsuda.

They had to be strong, for everyone, and especially for Makoto...

They loved him, and this incident taught them to cherish him.


End file.
